


Still Taking Our Time

by Anarchyinplasma



Series: Ozglyn - Slices of Eternity. [40]
Category: RWBY
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Short, redux, the usual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-31
Updated: 2016-08-31
Packaged: 2018-08-12 02:36:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7917100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anarchyinplasma/pseuds/Anarchyinplasma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oz and Glyn enjoy a sunset and a sonnet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Still Taking Our Time

**Author's Note:**

> Here we are at part forty. I'll be honest I never expected to go this far. I'll extend a personal thank you to everyone, guest or otherwise, who has ever reviewed, left Kudos, or even just taken the time to read. Hopefully you'll all still be here at eighty.

Oz was careful to mind his steps as he moved around one of Beacon’s many gardens. The flowers were out in force, as was the norm in the height of summer, and the vibrant lines of gorgeous sapphire and brilliant crimson stretched and swirled into intricate patterns laid down by careful gardeners, as well as students with an inclination to horticulture. He could faintly see Glynda waiting at the foot of the tree they had frequented before, in a prime position overlooking the school and to watch the sunset. Feeling a gentle tug at the collar of his shirt, he smiled and began climbing the hill.

Glynda sat at the base of a massive oak tree, Carpe Jugulum open in her lap, watching as Oz climbed the hill to meet up with her, cane and book (a collection of Shakespeare's sonnets, she thought) in hand. It being their final week at Beacon, she requested they make time for one more afternoon and evening of watching the sun set in their usual spot; Oz had been happy to comply.

As he climbed the hill, Oz noted the faint wispy clouds circling around the academy, converging on the sun. The sky was already lit with an oh so faint orange, it would certainly be a sunset to remember. He ran his thumb over the new ring on his finger, Glynda had insisted he have one as well, making their engagement, quote, “official for both parties” he'd questioned whether it was entirely necessary, but bought the ring anyway, it never hurt to explicitly state you were taken, especially to some of Beacon Academies less than reputable students who would love nothing more than to stir up rumours.

Glynda heard his feet move over the neatly trimmed grass softly, and glanced up. Oz's smile greeted her, soft and full of life, brown eyes glimmering with intelligence under the lenses of his glasses. He'd rolled up the sleeves on his shirt, a chequered design in dark green and faint blue, faintly ruffled at the cuffs that had been pushed up. To Glynda, it was a look that suited him perfectly, glasses slightly askew and a bit too far down his nose, cane in one hand, and a copy of Shakespeare's sonnets in the other as he joined her on the grass.

Glynda stretched out her legs even as he folded his own, dark blue jeans and her usual black calf-height boots momentary blocking her own view of the setting sun. She slipped a bookmark into Carpe Jugulum and set it aside, resting her head on Oz's shoulder as he opened his book and began to read quietly.

“When I do count the clock that tells the time,  
And see the brave day sunk in hideous night;  
When I behold the violet past prime,  
And sable curls, all silvered o'er with white;  
When lofty trees I see barren of leaves,  
Which erst from heat did canopy the herd,  
And summer's green all girded up in sheaves,  
Borne on the bier with white and bristly beard,  
Then of thy beauty do I question make,  
That thou among the wastes of time must go,  
Since sweets and beauties do themselves forsake  
And die as fast as they see others grow;  
And nothing 'gainst Time's scythe can make defence  
Save breed, to brave him when he takes thee hence.” 

Oz closed the book with a soft snap and laid it on the grass. Resting his head on Glynda's and looking out at the clouds resembling curling tongues of flame in the sky.

All was silent for a moment, before Glynda spoke, brushing some dirt from her cuff.  
“You don't have a scythe Oz. In fact I've seen you try to use one. It was hilarious.” She can feel his smirk against the crown of her head.  
“I think, my darling, that ‘nothing 'gainst Time’s cane can make defense’ possibly lacks the verve and impact of the original.” He slipped an arm around her waist.  
“Besides, if I don’t have a scythe it means we'll be here about as long as we please.”

Glynda hummed in agreement, not taking her eyes from the sunset, watching the sun sink below the horizon, seemingly setting light to the sky with abandon. Oz smiled. All was right with the world.

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a special little announcement, I've run out of ideas. If you have any Ozglyn prompts you'd like done, leave comments and I'll turn out fics till I run dry of ideas again. Once again a huge thank you to everyone, no matter who you are.
> 
> With love, Anarchy.


End file.
